Come After Me
by the laws of transitivity
Summary: Toad deals with postLiberty Island life at the Xavier Institute, and finds love. After the first movie. Rated for language. Warnings: Occasional sicklysweet loviedovieness, slash.
1. Salty Eyes

Song is "Salty Eyes" by The Matches 

**Review, Please. If you don't you're not even being lazy- you're just being stupid :).**

Come After Me 

Rehabilitation, they call it- the X-Men. I sat in their office while Xavier shook his head sadly, and went on about understanding how desperate my situation had been. A second chance, he called it- Logan. He held me tight against his chest while my fingers clenched at his shirt, and tears streaked down my face, stinging at the still-tender flesh on my cheeks. _"I don't believe in things happening by chance," _he'd told me in that low, grave tone he gets whenever someone starts to doubt we'll all have a fairytale ending,_ "There's a reason you're here, Mort. This is your chance to do things over, and I won't let them take it from you."_ What complete and utter bullshit. I don't know why he'd convinced himself that he cared so much in the first place… No one cared about me. I was the Toad.

**Do you belong to a song?  
Does it drag you along by the tongue at the top of your lungs?  
Are you drunk?  
Have you been drinking?**

I slam back the umpteenth shot of the night, and wince as it slides down my throat before curling back into the darkness of the booth. The reporter on the telly says something about the blizzard breaking a record. I certainly don't give a shit- all I know is that it had been damn cold outside. I'd almost given into the hypothermia on my way here. Figured there wasn't much point in fighting any of it anymore.

**_Do you belove the overpass go with a fifth in your fist  
Reminiscing the kiss of a love that just didn't love as much as you did?  
The kiss of a love that just didn't love as much as you did?  
_**

I had to give him credit, though: The Wolverine knew how to bullshit like no other. Making promises about things being better, being accepted, finding inner peace or some nonsense like that. He did tell the truth about one thing, though. When Logan saw what he wanted, he knew it, and he took it. Nothing stood in his way. It had been nice at first, being wanted. Laying curled up against him at night, his arms around me, protecting me- it was the closest thing to love I've ever been given. Even if just for a while, someone gave a damn whether I lived or died. When he kissed me, sometimes I could pretend it was love.

**_But please don't give up dear walls.  
Don't let the ceiling fall.  
When you belong to a song, salty eyes, you belong.  
_**

The room tilts violently, and my hands clutch at my temples frantically in an attempt to keep the volatile liquor down. I'm making it run through my system like poison. Maybe now I can know what it was like having a pathetic shit like me hanging around. Another shot down. It burns.

**_Shrill notes begin the grim violin.  
Then from the silence of violence the sirens orchestrate the score.  
To which one more corpse is left quiet._**

I was a bleeding idiot to say it. Why couldn't I just be happy with things like they were? I was better off than I'd ever been in my entire life, and I had to go piss it away searching for more! I was a right selfish bastard. I deserved everything I got. That look on his face when I asked, voice quivering like a child's, eyes pleading like a weakling's: _"Lo… d'you… d'you love me?"_ God damn, I'd wanted so bad for him to love me… He cared, though, that should have been enough. I was a fool to go chasing him away with a question like that.

**_How we've become the hollows of drums.  
The rest between notes and the hollers that never reach throats.  
Friends in quotes, they're not calling.  
_**

I keep expecting him to walk into the bar. Don't have a clue how in hell he'd find me, but I keep thinking he'll track me down this time like he did before. Smell me out, maybe? God knows he knows my scent by now. Now, that's just pathetic, isn't it, though? I used to hate them. They were the enemy- it was all so clear-cut and perfect. Now I kept seeing him walking in to make it better…

**_But please don't give up dear you.  
I'll bet the sliver moon's sliding through  
When you belong to a song, salty eyes, you belong.  
_**

When he dove into the murky Hudson after me… I couldn't believe someone was actually trying to save my life… It was ridiculous. Me, a man who killed for a living, was saved by the enemy. He'd searched me out in the darkness, and hauled me to shore. It wasn't the only time, either. When Jean told me about my heart, I tried to bolt. I'd never be the same… it was gone. They'd never take me back. Magneto wouldn't take me back when I served no purpose anymore. Logan came after me. He promised to take care of me. I believed him, too. Yet, when I asked that stupid question, and he just sat there staring at me… When I ran, he didn't follow. Just let me go.

**_Do please believe however naive.  
They may drag you along by the tongue at the top of your lungs.  
And belong salty eyes.  
_**

As my muscles slowly give way to unconsciousness, I swear I can even see him walking in. The room is sliding in and out of focus, but him I see clearly. He strolls in, shakes the snow off his jacket, and walks over to the bar- can't even see me here. The bar dims to black of its own accord, and I swear I can even hear him… "You seen a little guy come in here? Yea high… keeps a hood up… English accent…?"

**_When you belong to a song, salty eyes, you belong._**


	2. Breathe You In

The song is "Breathe You In" by Stabbing Westward.

**Please, please, please review? (This is where I do puppy dog eyes)**

I'd checked almost every other bar in town. This had to be the one. He had to be here. _That or face down in a river,_ thought a malicious voice in my mind. No. No, he couldn't be dead. Yes, Mort could get a little morbid at times, but I didn't like to believe he'd kill himself over this. No, I knew Mort. The first thing he'd want to do was get really, really drunk. I parked my bike with the back half hanging out in the parking lot- there was a snow drift in the way. Shit, it was way too cold out here for him. He didn't do good in the cold.

**Tomorrow came too soon  
I barely made it through today  
Still empty inside  
I guess nothing's really changed  
**

It had taken a good five minutes for my brain to reboot itself after his question. By then, he was gone. Love? Is that what he'd said? Do I love him? That was a dangerous word if I'd ever known one. I should have gone after him right away. I should have jumped to my feet and gone to stop him… The thing is, I didn't. The thing is I'm a moron and a jackass. The thing is, I let him go. I let him run away into the cold.

**I'm still afraid to feel  
'Cause I cannot take the pain  
I'm still afraid to feel  
Afraid to lose someone again  
**

I pushed open the door, and closed it behind me quickly. Now, I had a high tolerance for cold (I'm Canadian for Chrissakes), but it was cold as a pimp's heart out there. Shaking the snow off my jacket loosely, I glanced about the dirty establishment quickly, then turned to the bartender, giving a general description of what Mort looks like to the general populace. He gestured towards the far end of the booths where the light above a table had gone out.

**I wish that somehow  
I could leave  
My past behind  
My fears behind**

I had sat there for a good fifteen minutes more when I could have been going after him, trying to get my head around the word. LOVE. Head in my hands, I yelled at myself. _"It's just a word! Stop freaking out!"_ I ordered myself forcefully. Standing up quickly, I began to pace. I'm not much of a pacing guy- I'm pretty chill, or so I've heard. It wasn't just a word. It was a promise, and it was a big one. I cared about Mort- I knew that much. I cared about him enough to go just about insane chasing after him and worrying about him. Then it occurred to me: All that? All that worrying and I was letting him go over this? Over this stupid word? I was on my bike in five minutes flat.

**If I could only breathe you in  
Every drop of you**

He was unconscious in the booth, and surrounded by a variety of shot glasses. Mort didn't look good at all. Hefting the man over my shoulder, I nodded once at the bartender, and took him outside. The cold air must have shocked him awake, because I heard a small pathetic moan from behind me, and when I set him down, the first thing he did was puke all over the oil-stained snow of the parking lot. I rubbed at his back while the convulsions of sickness and drunkenness turned to those of tears. He wiped at his mouth, and leaned into my chest with small rivulets of wetness streaming down his cheeks. "I'm sorry," he slurred through sobs, "I'm so sorry, Lo'." I shook my head and told him not to apologize. How could I not love him? If I loved anyone in this world it was him.

**I guess it's time to face the truth  
And admit my past mistakes  
Come to terms with all that's wrong with me  
And all the things I'll never be  
**

I've never been good at the whole feeling thing: Understanding them, showing them, admitting them. It doesn't mean I don't have 'em. It just means they're… foreign to me- even when they're my own. When you live like I lived for the previous fifteen or so years, just surviving and doing whatever it took to do that, you learn that emotion is weakness. The cold are strong and the weak die. The thing is, that's not how it is anymore. I'm not just surviving anymore. I want something else. I want Mort. I want to feel for him. I want to be weak for him and strong for him. I want to survive and die for him.

**Why am I afraid to feel?  
Afraid of what is true?  
Why am I afraid to feel?  
When all I really want is you?  
**

"I love you," I whispered in a low tone.

When he was done crying, I found that he was still shivering. Shit, duh! It was an amphibian thing. "C'mon, Mort. Let's get home," I murmured, picking him up carefully, and placing him on the bike. I got on behind him so I could hold him steady on the bike, and we took off. Towards home.

"I love you, too, Lo'," he slurred back at me.

**To taste your skin  
To share your thoughts  
Would never be enough for me**


	3. You Make Me, Me

The Song is "You Make Me, Me" by MxPx

**Review, por favor! I thrive on reviews!**

For someone whom everyone finds completely repulsive- a man whose own mother wouldn't hold him-, waking up in someone's arms is the most amazing sensation you can imagine. He didn't exactly snore, but when he was asleep, Logan made this soft almost inaudible rumbling noise in his chest that kind of reminded me of purring. When I suggested that, though, he got all defensive about the cat reference. I didn't say anything else about it, but that's one of the many things I love about him- dropping off to sleep, lulled by his breathing.

**Every night I get down on my knees and pray  
I thank the Lord above for you each day  
I was lost and then I found you  
You make my ocean, you make my sky blue**

Other than the slight headache that the booze had left me (I managed to sleep off the worst of it), when I woke up that morning, I felt completely content. I was in our bed. That meant that he'd come after me. That meant he loved me. The sound of the shower running drifted through the bathroom door behind me, and I dug my way out of the tangle of blankets I was in. On the nightstand by my head, there were two blue tablets and a glass of water waiting for me. I popped them, and downed the glass with a grateful grin.

**You make me smile  
You make me sing  
You make me scream  
You make me, everything  
You make me, me**

Happiness is one of the oddest human emotions. Emotions like anger, jealousy, sadness, excitement- they're all fueled by passion. They require energy. Being happy isn't so much an emotion as a state: a state of happiness. Normal people don't think about it much because it's so commonplace, but when you're twenty years old and you've never truly been happy, you can see how inescapably strange it is. Strange and addictive.

**What lesson has the Lord thrown up for me?  
You are the answer to that mystery  
I was lost and then I found you  
You make my ocean, you make my sky blue**

My legs were a bit stiff when I got up, but it wasn't so bad. It could have been a lot worse. At some point the night before either Logan or I had gotten me out of the booze-rank clothing and into some clean boxers. I dug some clean clothes out of the laundry basket next to the dresser, tucked them under my arm, and headed to the bathroom door. I knocked on the door once before I opened the door. "Mornin', Lo'," I called over the sound of the shower.

**You make me smile  
You make me sing  
You make me scream  
You make me, everything  
You make me laugh  
You make me cry  
You make me live  
You make me die  
You make me, me  
**

When I was a kid, all I knew was fear, loneliness, and sadness. After Magneto found me, there was excitement at first. Soon after, though, I ruined my first mission: a simple reconnaissance job. Then there was fear. He taught me anger, too. Instead of hating myself, he told me to hate _them_, the normals. I remember excitement when Logan first kissed me, and that was great, a simple, passionate emotion. After that, things settled into an odd sort of constancy. There was a soft contentedness, a fuzzy feeling that never left. I was happy.

**Height won't separate us from this love  
Depth can't separate us from this love  
Can't separate from this love…  
**

His head poked out from behind the curtain with that half-restrained grin that I love. "Morning."

I moved over towards the shower to kiss him lightly. "Sorry about yesterday," I murmured softly, "Thanks for coming after me." He just shook his head, cupped my cheek, and kissed me again.

"I love you."

**You make me smile  
You make me sing  
You make me scream  
You make me, everything  
You make me laugh  
You make me cry  
You make me live  
You make me die**

No one has ever loved me before. Not really. My own parents didn't keep me for more than an hour. Magneto said that he loved all of his 'brothers', but it was complete bullshit. This felt real. I know that I would do anything for this man. I would give him anything, do anything, be anything. He's my everything.

**These days so few seem to have faith  
In the son of man and in his grace  
I feel your breathe upon my face  
As you replace, my broken wings  
**

There was a swell of pressure up from my chest to my throat that I had to force down. "I love you too, Logan," I whispered softly. Looking up at him, I was overwhelmed with my favorite new drug: Happiness.

**You make me sing  
You make me scream  
You make me, everything  
You make me, me**


	4. Collide

**The song is "Collide" by Howie Day**

**If you review, I'll be sooooo happy!!**

I had a nightmare last night. Not a nightmare like the ones I used to have. I haven't had one of those since… well, since before he got here. My nightmares now are a bit more terrifying. This one followed the same basic pattern as all the others: I'm diving into the Hudson to get Mort like I had the night of the Liberty Island incident. My lungs hurt from being under so long, and I can't seem to understand why I haven't found him yet. In the dream, I know where I was supposed to have found him, though I never question how. Finally, my hand finds his, and I haul him up towards the surface. When we break out into the air, it's day, and I look down and can see his face clearly. It's not charred like it had been that night, and his eyes are open, glassy and dead.

**The dawn is breaking  
A light shining through  
You're barely waking  
And I'm tangled up in you  
Yeah**

Cigarettes, herbal shampoo, gel, and a light hint of alcohol. After a dream like that, I always wake up to this comforting scent, and my fears are pushed aside. I know instantly that he's there in my arms. I looked down at Mort with a soft smile, and run my fingers through his styling-stiffened hair. It's been a week since the night he ran away, and I still feel a heavy relief every time I wake up and can be sure that he's still with me. Call it needy or call it paranoid. It's the truth.

**I'm open, you're closed  
Where I follow, you'll go  
I worry I won't see your face  
Light up again**

I lowered my mouth down next to his ear, and whispered softly, "Good morning, Mort." He let out a small groan of protest, and rolled over to bury his face in my chest. "Time is it?" he whined. Glancing up at the clock, I let out a long yawn. "Almost nine," I informed him, "We overslept." His face tilted up towards mine, a sleepy grin on his lips. "So no shower, then?"

**Even the best fall down sometimes  
Even the wrong words seem to rhyme  
Out of the doubt that fills my mind  
I somehow find  
You and I collide**

The professor gave me a warning when we started… going out, or whatever you'd call it. He asked if I knew about Mort's history, and I told him I did. It wasn't exactly a happy subject. There was abuse and rape and no affection. Xavier said that there was "a very real chance that Mortimer could become dependent or obsessive." Sometimes I worry that I'm the dependent one.

**I'm quiet you know  
You make a first impression  
I've found I'm scared to know I'm always on your mind**

Scott, Ororo and I had all been called down to the briefing room that morning. "So wot'd the old crackpot 'ave to say?" Mort asked. His back was to me, hands busy with a frying pan and spatula. I had always thought it was hilarious that he could cook, but I never said anything about it. I didn't want to cut off my supply of well-prepared food. "Eh, we just got a reconnaissance job. We're leaving tomorrow, probably be gone three days or so," I told him with a shrug. The expression on his face when he looked back at me was… strange: A mix of worry and fear and run-of-the-mill upset. "Yeh…" he replied with a nod, turning back to the stove quick, "Jus', y'know, be careful an' all tha'." Wanting to lighten the mood, I snickered. "Fuckin' housewife," I teased.

**Even the best fall down sometimes  
Even the stars refuse to shine  
Out of the back you fall in time  
I somehow find  
You and I collide**

"You okay?" I had to ask. He'd been acting weird all day now. Mort had gotten his shirt off over his head, and then zoned out sitting on the bed with it still taught on his shoulders and arms. "Hm?" he responded, seeming to jerk out of his trance, and slipping the shirt the rest of the way off, "Yeh, I'm fine. Why?" He reached down to pull off his shoes… which were already off. "Because," I reasoned, moving to sit behind him on the bed, "You're acting weird." I rested my chin on his shoulder, and he smirked, catching my lips lightly.

**Don't stop here  
I lost my place  
I'm close behind  
**

He sighed. "I donno, Lo… I guess i's jus' yor leavin'… i's really stupid." Mort leaned back against me, and my arms wrapped around his waist. It wasn't like I hadn't left for a job before, but I supposed that this was the first time since… well, that whole ordeal. "It's not stupid. Just try not to worry about it, alright?" I kissed his temple gently, trying to calm him down a bit. We sat silently for a moment, and he laced his long, webbed fingers into mine. "Yeh. Alrigh'."

**Even the best fall down sometimes  
Even the wrong words seem to rhyme  
Out of the doubt that fills your mind  
You finally find  
You and I collide  
**

The worst part about the nightmare really isn't the sight of his corpse. It's the emotion that follows in me. First, there's a weight that drops in my stomach, and all I can do is stare in shock and disbelief. Then I glance around for the others at the dock, and there's nothing. Just water. And I have no idea where I'm supposed to go or what I'm supposed to do. As the dread and the feeling of being so utterly lost sets in, something breaks through my unconsciousness, dragging me back into the realm of the living: A soft breathing and a warm, familiar scent.

**You finally find  
You and I collide  
You finally find  
You and I collide**


End file.
